​Summer is not just a break. For students with ADHD, it is one of the most strategically important seasons of the year — and most families don’t understand that.

Here are three things I have learned after years of coaching students through rough patches that I wish more people were talking about.

Get a job. A real one.

Not an internship. Not a summer program. A job — the kind where you show up, clock in, deal with the public, and do something that requires your body as much as your brain.

There is something that happens to a young person when they spend a summer bussing tables, working a register, stocking shelves, or wrangling gear at a camp. They learn things no classroom can teach: how to manage frustration in real time, how to read a room, how to recover gracefully when they’ve made a mistake in front of someone who is impatient or unkind. They learn what it feels like to earn something. They develop — often for the first time — a relationship with effort that isn’t mediated by a grade.

For students with ADHD, this kind of work is not just good character-building. It is neurologically restorative. Physical labor and social engagement are two of the most effective natural regulators of the ADHD brain. A summer spent in genuine work — hands busy, people nearby, tasks concrete and immediate — does more for executive function than almost any intervention I can name. And the motivation to return to academic work in the fall? Completely different. Students who have worked a hard summer come back ready to think again. Students who have drifted through it often still feel burned out.

If your student has been resisting the idea of a summer job, I want to gently reframe the conversation. This is not about keeping them busy. It is about giving their brain something it genuinely needs.

Think carefully before enrolling in Summer Session One.

University calendars have a rhythm to them, and the second semester of an academic year is almost always the hardest. The holiday break is short — often barely three weeks. Students return in January already tired from a full fall semester, with no real recovery in between. By the time spring finals arrive, many students are running on fumes.

I see the consequences of this every year, and it raises a question that doesn’t get asked often enough: should your student be starting summer school the moment the spring semester ends?

For most students with ADHD, the honest answer is no. What the brain needs after a hard academic year is genuine rest — not passive screen time, not sleeping until noon every day, but a real period of decompression. A month to six weeks, minimum, away from academic demands. Time to remember who they are outside of deadlines and demands. Time to work, to be in their body, to sleep, to exist without a syllabus.

Summer Session One begins almost immediately after spring finals. For a student who is already depleted, jumping straight into coursework — often compressed and fast-paced — is a setup for struggle. Summer Session Two, which typically begins in late June or early July, gives students the breathing room they actually need before asking them to perform academically again.

There are exceptions, of course. Students who are highly motivated, genuinely rested, or working toward a specific goal that requires Summer One may do fine. But as a default? I consistently recommend Session Two. The timing is more humane, and for neurodiverse brains, humane timing is a prerequisite for learning.

Online classes are harder than your student thinks.

I want to say this as plainly as I can, because it is one of the most common misconceptions I encounter: online courses are not easier than traditional on-campus formats. For students with ADHD, they are often significantly harder.

The assumption — shared by students, parents, and frankly many advisors — is that online learning is more flexible, more self-directed, and therefore more forgiving. It’s true that you can do the work in your pajamas, but online courses require an unusually high degree of task initiation, sustained independent effort, and the ability to manage your own learning environment without external structure or social accountability. These are precisely the areas where ADHD creates the most friction.

In a classroom, there are cues that support engagement: social pressure from classmates, a professor’s watchful eye, a dedicated study space, a set time you are expected to show up. Online, all of that disappears and the student has to rely on their executive skills alone to get the work done. For an ADHD student, that rarely ends well. 

For many neurodiverse students, the boredom of online learning is not just an inconvenience. It is a genuine cognitive barrier. When the brain cannot sustain interest, attention drifts. When attention drifts repeatedly, the student begins to avoid the course entirely — not out of laziness, but out of a nervous system that is simply not getting what it needs to stay engaged.

If your student is considering online coursework this summer, I am not saying no categorically. Some students manage it well, particularly when the subject matter is genuinely interesting to them or the course is shorter in duration. But go in with clear eyes. Build in accountability structures. Consider whether in-person options exist. And if your student has struggled with online courses before, trust that pattern. It is telling you something real.

The choices you make in the next few weeks matter more than most people realize. Used well, it can set the tone for an entirely different kind of fall. Used carelessly, it can send a student back to campus more depleted than when they left.

Questions about how to plan your student’s summer strategically? I’d love to help. Reach out for a consultation time here (or text me at 713 557-7979).

Surgeon General, Dr. Vivek Murthy, issued an advisory this year about how social isolation and loneliness have become widespread problems in the United States. In the advisory, Dr Murthy says that given these profound consequences, loneliness should be treated the same way that we address tobacco use, obesity, and the opioid addiction crisis. Murthy goes on to say that we “are called to build a movement to mend the social fabric of our nation. It will take all of us…working together to destigmatize loneliness and change our cultural and policy response to it.”

During the lockdown part of the pandemic, I  experienced an intensity of loneliness that I had not felt for many years. The usual solitude of living on a small farm evaporated into isolation. As an extrovert, I needed to see and hug and be in the presence of others. I am grateful for family and good friends who worked with me to connect as we were able.

I see that loneliness linger in some of my clients. The solitary and clerical nature of online learning has created a silo effect, a rugged independence and reluctance to dialogue with one another.  The asynchronous structure of classes are for self paced individual learning. Discussion boards have not proven to be able to substitute for live discussion and community building. Some of the most enjoyable learning happens as we talk about the class material. We digest new information when we listen to other people’s perspectives and questions.

This fall I will be implementing a community of care model in my coaching groups. The group members will use their ability to listen well, their perspective and knowledge to help each other. A simple question they might ask one another is “what do you need and how can I help you?” By caring for one another, we create a foundation of togetherness that combats loneliness and supports our well-being.

I encourage you to find a circle of loved ones who will create with you your own community of care. Together, through connection, we can heal from the isolation effects of the pandemic.